


The I in Team

by Beguile



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Biting, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Discipline, Gags, Marking, Multi, Oral Sex, Possessive Behaviours, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sex, Suspension, Threesome, territorial, unholy trinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-11-01 23:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beguile/pseuds/Beguile
Summary: Written for the Tumblr prompt:  Matt is sleeping with both Frank and Elektra. Frank and Elektra do not like this.One-shot.





	The I in Team

**Author's Note:**

> Usually, I post my prompt fills straight to Tumblr, but nsfw works aren't searchable on the site anymore, so I figured I would just post this here. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

Elektra breaks from their kiss to ask, “What are these?” She fingers the long welts across Matthew’s hips and thighs, her nails running the lengths of the injuries. 

“Nothing,” he says, taking her by the wrists and pinning her down against the bed.

The lovemaking that follows is too good. Elektra nips at him playfully, raking her claws across his back in distraction before sinking her teeth so deep into his skin she leaves a welt of her own.

* * *

Frank stares the mark down as Red bucks in his lap. Could be nothing; could be not nothing. And in the case of Red, it’s more likely not nothing.

“What’s this?” He sinks his palm into the meat of Red’s chest, holding it there.

Red groans, his back arching. He takes Frank by the wrist and raises the hand to his mouth. “Nothing,” he says, breathless. He sucks Frank’s fingers into his mouth so hard Frank nearly finishes right then and there.

But Frank blinks the stars out of his eyes to get another look at that ruddy bruise on Red’s right pec, and with every ounce of strength, he gets his feet under him, plunging forward, Red riding his dick straight into the bed.

* * *

Matt recoils with a hiss.

“I’m sorry,” Elektra says, not really sorry at all. “Am I being too rough?” 

He forces a laugh. “No, no…you just…” He shuffles before her eyes, unable to get comfortable. “You just…hit a nerve, I think.”

“Well, I should hope so.” She puts her lips to his lower back and tries again, coming down over the clefts of his ass to find the slightest touch on his crack makes him seize up again.

A quick glance reveals nothing. Elektra forces her heartbeat to calm and puts herself in a better position, finally seeing how red he is. She brushes a hand there, relishing the sight of him squirm before he grabs her and rolls her over into his arms. He puts her on top, letting her ride him, and for the first time ever, he doesn’t stick around to cuddle afterward.

* * *

“What’s with your back?” Frank asks.

“Nothing.”   
  
But it’s not nothing. Red’s moving funny. Got a stitch in his spine. Frank digs a hand into him and Red actually winces. “Pulled something.”

“Oh, yeah? How? You backflip over rooftops and never pulled something before.”   
  
“Moving a filing cabinet at the office.” He smiles, full of shit.

Frank doesn’t bother hiding his pulse. His heartbeat scrapes its hooves inside his chest like a bull about to charge. “Moving a filing cabinet, huh?” He takes Red behind the knees and flips him back on the bed. Gets his shirt off before pouncing.

Red meets his roughness. That only spurs Frank on more, makes him meaner. He pins Red into the mattress and pulls a few muscles of his own, earning a series of satisfied grunts, moans, and shouts in return.

The little shit melts when Frank finishes with him. He’s non-verbal, stretched out and loose, dazed in subspace. Frank stays with him overnight. He’s there when Red wakes up, and after a quick cup of coffee and dinner, Frank pushes him into the shower and starts all over again.

Red doesn’t go out that night; Frank makes damn sure of that.

* * *

Elektra tries to keep her anger at bay. It really isn’t like Matthew to stand her up. His doing so last night probably means he’s home, injured or ill or otherwise incapacitated.

She intends to go through his rooftop access, but there’s someone else in his apartment. That friend of his from law school, must be. The footfalls are too heavy to be his secretary. Elektra pulls down her cowl and descends from the fire escape, coming through the front door instead. She knocks on Matthew’s door like a normal person.

A man answers: no one she’s seen before. Dark and rugged, face frozen in an expression of almost aggressive apathy, and it’s then Elektra finally puts it together: the bruises, the beatings, the chafing, the straining. Matt’s frayed nerves and bedroom antics.

She glares; the man glares back at her. He throws open the door. “I was just leaving,” he says, “He’s all yours.”   
  
Elektra grabs him by the neck; he knocks her arm aside at the elbow. She slams him into the doorframe; he goes to throw her down the stairs. She flips over his shoulder, and he reveals that to have been his plan all along, slamming the apartment door between them. By the time she opens the door, he’s gone.

She finds Matthew in the bedroom, limp on the pillows. Bandages on his wrists and ankles and neck to cover his rope burn; bruising up and down his back and chest. Bite marks on his thighs. Ass as red as his costume. Ropes still hang from the bedposts. A glass of water and a protein bar are on the nightstand for when Matthew awakes. How positively gentlemanly of Matthew’s other lover. How positively un-gentlemanly of Matthew.

Elektra folds her arms across her chest. “Well, what are we going to do about this,” she mutters, knowing exactly what she’s going to do about this. 

* * *

Frank hopes he walks in on them. God damn it, he’s been itching for it. Didn’t even know that’s what he’s been waiting for until Red didn’t show up tonight.

He kicks in the door of Red’s rooftop access. Thunders down the stairs into the dark apartment. The moans coming from the bedroom go straight to his dick, which only stands to piss him off more. Frank storms in, throwing on the lights as he does.

It’s only Red though: Red hanging from the ceiling, his limbs folded and splayed and stretched so he’s open and accessible and yet completely not. He’s got a plug in the ass and a cage on his cock and a ball gag in his mouth. He’s tied in such a way that he moves and he moans, in pain or in pleasure or in both, probably both.

Frank approaches, listening to the sudden uptick in Red’s breathing. His groaning turns to panting through the gag as he searches, as he calls. For her? Probably. She strung him up like this, set him out like an offering, left him there to suffer and wait knowing Frank would come. And he should cut Red down, he _should_, but there’s something about the sight of him that punches the air out of Frank’s lungs. Something about Frank watching, too, that makes Red suddenly go quiet, for him to spin slowly in his ropes on full, beautiful display.

After cutting him down, Frank stays just long enough to make sure Red’s okay. He leaves before the little shit can thank him.

* * *

Tracking Frank’s shithole of a safehouse isn’t easy, but Elektra does it, and she plants herself in his chair so that he’s extra pissed off when he walks in the door.

He draws on her, as she knew he would. “We can fight if you want,” Elektra says. “I’d be happy to return the favour for what happened at Matthew’s apartment.”   
  
“Didn’t you do that already?”

She rolls her eyes. He would bring _that_ up. “I was only trying to teach you a lesson.”

“I wasn’t the one hanging from the ceiling.”   
  
“Would you like to be?”

Frank doesn’t move, doesn’t waver, but there’s something in him, something deep, that would appreciate being tangled up in knots, strung from the ceiling. Caught in the deep interplay of pain and paradise. Frank will need some warming up though, so Elektra resumes focus on the matter at hand. “I’m here about Matthew.”   
  
“What about him?” Frank asks.

She swivels a little in his chair, sighing. “My ministrations with the ropes seem to have driven a wedge between us.”   
  
“No shit.”

“Seems to have had the same effect on the two of you.”   
  
The gun is still between them, but Elektra gets the distinct impression that he isn’t going to take the shot. He’s listening.

Elektra smiles slightly. “Want to change that?”

Frank doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t shoot either.

* * *

Matt promises himself he isn’t going to apologize to either of them. They never said they were exclusive, and after the way they’ve treated him, they can both go fuck themselves.

He is stunned into silence when Elektra apologize. He’s stunned back into speaking when she clears her throat and Frank mumbles, “Sorry,” too.

“Bullshit,” he snaps at them both.

Elektra comes right up to him, till their chests are touching, till her breath is on his neck. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I’m sorry I hurt you.” She runs her hands up and down the lapels of his jacket. “You don’t deserve that.”   
  
“Stop.”   
  
“You’re so good, Matthew.”   
  
He walks away from her. Ends up by Frank, who echoes her in a low rumble. “You are good, Red.”   
  
Matt tosses his head between them, thinking he’s misreading, but their respiration, their body temperatures, their everything is armed and at the ready, and they’re advancing on him.

He can’t hide his smirk.

What follows isn’t brutal in the slightest. It’s soft and slow and sensual, totally different from everything that came before, and it undoes Matt so completely that he’s dimly aware of tears on his face by the end of it. He’s wrapped up between them, Elektra kissing his cheeks, when he finally whispers, “I would have introduced you to each other a long time ago if I knew…”

* * *

Happy Reading!


End file.
